


Impulses

by madsthenerdygirl



Category: Timeless (TV 2016)
Genre: Awkward Turtles in Love, Episode Tag, F/M, Post 3x08 Stagecoach Mary, Smut, Timeless (TV) Original Season 03, Timeless Season 3 Project
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-14
Updated: 2019-01-14
Packaged: 2019-10-10 08:48:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17422700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madsthenerdygirl/pseuds/madsthenerdygirl
Summary: It occurs to Flynn that while they’re both talking in English, they’re not speaking the same language. “You thought it made me uncomfortable?”Lucy’s now the one looking confused. “It... didn’t it?”After finally making it back to the 21st century and their new safe house, two members of the Time Team have some unfinished business.





	Impulses

**Author's Note:**

> The Garcy Fandom, January 13th, 2019:
> 
> I LIIIIIIIIIIIIIIVE!!!

To say it’s been an exhausting day would be an understatement.

After getting back with Jiya, Flynn’s had to help Rufus and Mason with the Lifeboat as best he can while Jiya does her best to sleep and regain her strength. She just about drained herself psychically fighting Stanley and Rufus keeps running back into their bedroom to check on her.

At least everyone has their own bedrooms now. Denise apparently learned from the bunker’s bed hopping and secured them a safe house with enough rooms so that everyone can sleep on their own if they want. Flynn can’t blame her for that. And after being crammed together in a tiny homestead, it’s practically a palace.

By the time he hops in the shower, he’s beat, but not too beat to go to bed without enjoying the miracle of indoor plumbing. God bless.

When he gets out of the bathroom (still just the one, alas), the last person he expects to see is Lucy. He nearly trips over her, in fact, because she’s sitting on the floor half-asleep, apparently waiting for him to get out.

He thought she’d gone to bed forever ago, or was sitting up with Wyatt (who’s not out of the woods yet but is happily sleeping on painkillers so that’s something). “Lucy?”

She opens her eyes, sees it’s him, and jumps to her feet. Her cheeks are pink. “Flynn. I—sorry.”

“You should’ve knocked, I would’ve hurried up.”

“Oh, no, I was just.” She bites her lip. “I wanted to talk to you.”

This could, theoretically, be a talk about any number of things, but he knows what she wants to discuss. “Don’t worry about it.”

“No, but—I was out of line.”

That throws him off. “Out of line?”

“Well you—I know that must have made you uncomfortable. I... I really value our friendship. I don’t want to lose that because I...”

“We all have moments of... impulse.” He’s not going to hold it against her. Lucy’s been struggling with a lot, they were exhausted and strung out, emotional... it’s all right. Really. He’s grown accustomed to the useless ache in his chest around her.

Lucy closes her eyes, as if in pain. “Right. Impulse.”

He frowns. “Is everything all right?”

“Of course.” She gives him a wane smile. “I just wanted to say that I’m sorry I crossed any boundaries or that I made you uncomfortable.”

It occurs to Flynn that while they’re both talking in English, they’re not speaking the same language. “You thought it made me uncomfortable?”

Lucy’s now the one looking confused. “It... didn’t it?”

Oh Lord. Out of all the ways he thought he’d be announcing his feelings, he’d sort of hoped it would be right before he went and blew himself up or something so that he wouldn’t have to suffer through Lucy’s gentle and considerate rejection. “I have to admit it took me by surprise. But it wasn’t... unwelcome.”

He shrugs, tries to muster up a smile. “But since you’re asking me not to hold a momentary impulse against you, I’d like to ask that you not hold... this against me.”

“This?”

He clears his throat, has to avoid her gaze. “Well. You did once ask me why I was here.”

Lucy’s stare is immolating, even as he tries not to gaze at it directly. “What if I told you,” she whispers, “that the... the moment was impulsive but... but the feeling behind it wasn’t?”

He looks at her then as he sharply inhales, as he feels like shards of ice are piercing his lungs. “You can’t—“

“Feel that way? Mean it? Be serious?” Lucy fills out his sentence. “But I can. And I do. And... and I am.”

“Lucy—"

“You—" She looks away, swallows. “You’ve been here. For me. This whole time. And Temple was—and I had no idea. That he was getting to you like that. And I’m so sorry. I’ve been taking you for granted and I’m sorry, I am, but especially because you—" She’s starting to cry and fuck, he can’t handle that, the need to pull her into his arms is so strong he’s almost choking. “I’m with you and I’m safe and I’m happy and I didn’t think I could—that it was—"

He’s opening his mouth to say... he’s not even sure what, actually, but it’s all lost when Lucy launches herself forward like she’s throwing herself off a cliff and her mouth latches onto his, her hands catching his face.

Flynn gets his arms around her waist on instinct, not wanting her to fall. This time Lucy doesn’t pull away too fast—she presses in, insistent, giving him the chance to respond and kiss her back. She’s warm and sharp and soft all at once, and trembling like she’s scared, or cold, and either way she wants him to warm her up.

Lucy pulls back, just enough that he can look into her eyes. “I feel like I should’ve done that ages ago,” she admits, almost shyly.

He knows his face is sporting some ridiculously besotted look, but he doesn’t care. He leans in to kiss her, and pauses. “Ah. May I...”

Lucy makes a noise of incredible frustration and seals her mouth on his. This kiss lasts... well, it lasts long enough for Mason to enter the hallway, stop short, raise his eyebrows, and politely turn around and go back to the Lifeboat bay.

“You may,” Lucy says firmly. Her hands smooth down his chest. “As much as you’d like.”

He does it again, swift and soft, because he would pour his soul into her if he could. Lucy sighs into it, as if—of all things—she’s content. Then once more, because it seems to make her happy. And then one more time, to be sure.

Lucy’s laughing into his mouth by the end. “C’mere,” she tells him, her hands sliding over his and then tugging as she steps back.

“Lucy...” She’s pretty clearly leading him to her new bedroom, and while the very thought makes him hot all over, he doesn’t want to rush this. Doesn’t want her regretting anything in the morning.

She went through that once with Wyatt. And while nobody could’ve predicted Jess, the way Wyatt acted afterwards was all on him. Flynn has no intention of behaving that way but he’s still paranoid. He doesn’t want to be the reason her heart breaks yet again.

Lucy tugs more insistently. “I’m not sleeping alone tonight.”

“I would’ve thought our little camping trip would have made you a fan of personal space.”

They reach her door and Lucy blushes a little. “Yes. Well. I don’t sleep so well on my own. And you’re... I...” Her blush deepens. She looks down at the floor, takes a deep breath. “This isn’t me owing you anything. Not that. But I do feel like—like I haven’t been really seeing what’s in front of me. And I don’t know what’s going to happen tomorrow, to any of us, and I want—if we only have right now then I…”

There’s a part of him that still terrifyingly unsure, that wants to go slowly with this. He is so scared of messing up. He doesn’t want to hurt her.

But this is what Lucy wants, and what Lucy wants has been shoved aside in one way or another by the team, by life, by Rittenhouse, for two years now. If he can give to her something, anything that she says will make her happy—then he’ll pay whatever price comes.

He squeezes her hand. _I’m yours_ , he wants to tell her. _Not just for right now_.

But he’s not sure, still, how she might receive that. So instead he says, “If you’re sure.”

Lucy nods. “I’m sure.”

Her bedroom isn’t decorated, but it’s got a large and comfortable bed (Denise either wanted to spoil them after listening to everyone complain about the bunker mattresses or she just figured they’d all find some way to fuck each other again like the dramatic high schoolers they are), a closet, a dresser, and some bookshelves. There are already history books on the shelves. Clearly Lucy’s room.

Lucy herself tugs at him until she can push in the middle of his chest for him to sit on the bed, where she proceeds to kiss him quite thoroughly. He can sense an edge to her that she’s trying to hold back, like she’s not sure if she can be as wild as she wants, and so he slides his hands up her sides and growls a little, pressing into her mouth.

A purr of satisfaction leaves Lucy and she clambers into his lap, sliding her hands greedily over his arms and shoulders like she’s been dreaming about this for ages. He keeps his hands at her sides to start, just anchoring her, but then Lucy takes his wrist and guides his hand up to cup her breast through the thin cotton of her shirt. He never would’ve thought he’d find 21st century pajama pants and a shirt somewhat erotic, but after nothing but 1900s clothes for all of them, he’s finding Lucy’s thin, relaxed, easy-to-get-off clothes are a godsend.

She squirms in his lap, impatient, yanking at his shirt. “Off, off, off,” she breathes into his mouth.

“I could say the same for you,” Flynn replies, his voice hoarse.

Lucy pushes him down onto the bed and tugs her shirt up and off, then imperiously raises an eyebrow and waits for him to do the same.

Flynn just about chokes when he sees her, dark hair spilling over her shoulders, her pale skin, her breasts, the flush creeping down her neck. He fumbles as he gets his own shirt off, nearly entangling his arms, but he manages it and then Lucy’s pinning him down and kissing everywhere she can reach. She’s starving, devouring him, and Flynn’s not all that inclined to stop her.

“Somebody’s impatient,” he teases, tugging at a handful of her hair so he can kiss down her throat.

“I might—I might have been—I’ve thought about this for a while,” Lucy admits in an embarrassed rush, her whole face going red.

Flynn pulls back to read her gaze. Lucy looks dead serious. Embarrassed, yes, but serious.

“A while?”

Lucy looks away. “Well, I—you were rather frustrating and… you know how to pick an outfit.” She shrugs. “You remember our… our talk? With the horses?”

He knows he looks smug, but he can’t help it. He thinks he’s entitled to just a teensy bit of preening. Of course he remembers that. He had been trying not only to tell her about his plans but to warn her—they should be allies, yes. But he wasn’t the kind of man Wyatt was, or Rufus was. She should be wary of equating him with them. He didn’t want her illusions shattered.

He’d had no idea she was—that she could possibly even—

Lucy still looks like she wants to curl in on herself with humiliation, so he kisses her again, softly, his hands rubbing circles into her back. “I’m honored,” he tells her, and he means it. To be worthy of Lucy’s attention, even for a moment—for months and months it was all he’d ever wanted.

Lucy’s smile is like sunshine, and then she’s quick to go back to claiming him like a queen surveying all the castles she now owns, the conquerer exploring her new territory.

Maybe they are going a bit fast. Maybe it would be the smart thing to slow down. But judging from the determined, eager way she’s sucking a bruise into his neck and skimming her fingers over his chest, he does believe her when she says she’s thought about this for a while. He can’t see why she would make that up.

And maybe that means that she—that she really could, does, have feelings for him, even if they end up being only half the depth of his own for her.

With that in mind, there is something he’s been wanting to do for quite some time.

He gets his arm around her waist and flips her, sliding down between her legs. Lucy inhales sharply, one hand entangling in his hair as he yanks her pants down. “Garcia—"

He’d respond, but he’s a little busy kissing up her thighs. Lucy whimpers. It’s been a while, obviously, and that means she’s delightfully sensitive when he opens her up with his tongue. He hears Lucy’s head fall back onto the bed, her thighs tightening around him, her skin hot and feverish, shivering beneath his mouth. He’d do this to her all night if she let him.

Lucy’s not loud, exactly, but she’s constantly making noise, small whines and whimpers that make him feel punch drunk. When he finally seals his lips over her clit and sucks, she claps her hand over her mouth to muffle the moan that he can feel vibrating through her entire body.

She just about yanks him up to her, kissing the taste of her from his mouth, her hands making short work of his pants. He wants to tell her it’s all right—he doesn’t need—but Lucy seems far from finished for the evening and she’s practically clawing at him for more.

Flynn can do frantic, certainly. There are probably going to be times in the future—if she feels so inclined to let there be repeats of this—when he’ll touch her with the same ferocity she’s exuding. But not right now. This is the first time he gets to be with her. He wants to savor it.

He grabs her wrists, lightly pinning them to the bed, and kisses her slow and deep. Lucy strains up against him, making an almost snarl of frustration, but he keeps at it, slowing her down, until she starts to respond.

Flynn lets go of her wrists and Lucy winds her arms around him, her fingers combing through the hair at the back of his head, all of her hot and pliant. “Please,” she whispers. One of her hands slides down between them, wraps around the base of his cock. “Garcia, please.”

He pulls back, gasping, buries his face into her neck as he lets her guide him into her. He hears Lucy make a sound of relief that might be a sob, and his eyes are stinging pretty bad. He’s overwhelmed, he’s with her in the most intimate way possible, he’s got Lucy Preston in his arms and it feels like any moment now he has to wake up because good things stopped happening to Garcia Flynn in 2014.

But if he really is going to wake up in the morning to find he’s still on the floor of a cabin in Montana, his subconscious is nice enough to let that happen after the sex finishes. He blinks, and breathes, and he’s still here. Still with Lucy.

He braces himself above her and Lucy hooks a leg around his waist, and he starts to move in her. Slowly at first. Carefully. But then a little deeper, harder, as Lucy encourages him with her mouth, her hands, her heel digging into his back. She kisses him again and again, like she’s collecting them from him, and he wants to tell her there’s no rush. She can spend the rest of her life collecting them, if she wants.

Lucy takes his face in her hands again, tucks him into her, holds him. “Let go,” she begs, her mouth at his ear. “I want to feel—please—just—“

He falters, loses his rhythm, drives into her with what he fears is too much force, and Lucy gives a sigh of satisfaction. He gets his hand between them, finds her clit, and Lucy gives a startled little yelp and bites on his shoulder, coming.

Maybe someone else—someone with nerves much stronger than his—could hold back at that point, but he isn’t that person. He’s weak, and he loves her, and she’s warmth and light and she’s holding him and shuddering from head to toe and no, no, he couldn’t hold back if he’d tried.

It feels like he’s melting into her. Like everything is being drained from him.

He doesn’t mind in the slightest.

Lucy doesn’t seem to like his “roll to the side so I don’t crush you” idea and promptly curls up on his chest, wrapping his arms around her in a silent instruction to hold her.

He squeezes gently. Lucy hums with satisfaction.

For a while, it’s silent. He brings a hand up to pet through her hair and Lucy traces small patterns on his chest and shoulder with her finger. But then, just as he thinks she’s fallen asleep, she whispers, “Stay with me?”

“Of course.”

There’s another long pause. Then… “Not just for tonight?”

He swallows. Denise is going to roll her eyes when she sees there’s now another unoccupied room after all the trouble shewent to ensuring everyone could sleep on their own. “I’ll stay as long as you want.”

Lucy kisses his chest, and then really does go to sleep, leaving him only with the hope that ‘as long as she wants’ will be a very long time indeed.


End file.
